Battling Guilt: When Parents Feel at Fault
Logically, I understand that Autism Spectrum Disorder is still a scientific mystery. No one knows for sure what causes it. There are several strong theories supported by scientific data that point to the possibility of genetic predisposition, but it will likely be years -- and perhaps even decades -- before a definite "cause" of autism is finally nailed down.
Rationally, I know this. But as the parent of an autistic child, logic and rational thinking are often obscured by a much more powerful force: guilt.
I was only nineteen years old when I discovered I was pregnant. Even though I was an Honors Student midway through my second year of college, I confess that I barely knew what I was doing. While I had carefully considered all of the options available to young, unmarried women burdened with unexpected pregnancies, as soon as I saw the ultrasound image of the tiny speck of cells that was my unborn six-week-old baby, all I knew was that I wanted to bring that little speck of cells into the world, and all logical arguments were obscured by another powerful force: love.
As a young unmarried mother-to-be, I had a rather emotionally tumultuous pregnancy. While I had the love and support of my family, the father of my child was extremely inconsistent in his affections and intentions. I was still taking a full course load of college classes, working my way through the Honors Program, and the stress along with the pregnancy took its toll on my body. To make matters worse, my dorm building was deemed unsafe and was condemned while I was pregnant (fortunately, I was able to rely on the kindness of friends to house me for the remainder of the semester). I suffered from morning sickness, exhaustion, low iron, and depression. In hindsight, I have often wondered how all of these factors may have affected Aisling's prenatal development.
My labor with Aisling was also very long, intense, and problematic. I'd chosen to have Aisling at a Birthing Center with Nurse Practitioner midwives in attendance, because I'd wanted to have a completely natural, completely drug-free experience. Unfortunately, I was a 4'11'' tall young woman trying to give birth to an 8 lb 4.6 oz child. After twelve hours of intense and painful contractions with little progress, I was rushed to the local hospital where, after a few hours of rest, an epidural, and a few more unsuccessful tries, my daughter was finally born via emergency c-section. She had no post-natal complications, and there were no signs of fetal distress. She was extremely healthy, and after I had a couple of nights to recover from my surgery, they sent us both home.
In hindsight, Aisling's autistic traits were immediately apparent, even though I didn't realize it at the time. It was very difficult to get her to breastfeed, and even when she did she wouldn't make eye contact with me. She disliked being held, and she refused to sleep in the same bed with me -- she preferred being alone in her crib, without blankets, pillows, or stuffed animals. She would only wear soft pajamas -- any other type of clothing made her irritable and often led to tantrums. She was happiest when she was sitting by herself in her bouncy chair or her baby swing, and she took little interest in the people around her.
I didn't realize this at the time, of course. I was young, and this was my first child. She seemed to be hitting all the proper development benchmarks at the right times (sitting up, grasping, babbling, crawling, walking, making specific series of sounds) -- she was just missing a subtle social nuance that I simply did not recognize. She would babble, but not to try to interact with people. She would use repetitive sounds, but she wouldn't use them in a purposeful manner. I often joked that she really only saw me as a "walking milk factory," that she only loved me because I fed her but beyond that she had no use for me. In truth, and despite my best efforts, I never felt as if she wanted to "bond" with me in those early years. Looking back now, it's obvious why.
Still, there's the Guilt. I should have prepared better, I should have better insulated myself against emotional breakdowns during pregnancy, I should have gone to a mainstream doctor in a regular hospital, I should have noticed the precursors of my daughter's lack of interest in social interaction. In the books that I read, I am assured that this is a normal reaction, that many parents of autistic children feel as if somehow they are to blame for their children's condition. These books also assure me that such thoughts are irrational -- that while there seems as if there might be a correlation between ASD and difficult pregnancies/births, studies are still inconclusive in proving a cause-and-effect relationship.
The simple truth is that the cause of Autism is a mystery. As parents, we do the best we can with the resources we have to bring our children into this world, to keep them healthy, and to protect, guide, and love them along the way. As parents of children with autism, guilt is just one of the negative emotions we struggle with on a daily basis -- frustration, disappointment, and grief are also part of the package when dealing with a special needs kid. However, we are also blessed with the gifts of immense pride when our child progresses, absolute joy at the smallest accomplishments, constant amazement at the development milestones, and incredible delight at the unique quirks. Eight years ago, when I first heard the term "autism," I never dreamed my child would able to hold conversations, engage in imaginative play, or find boys cute. Every day with Aisling is an adventure -- one that is well-worth all of the tears, doubt, and guilt that come with the territory of being the parent of an autistic child.